Animal Guardian

The sun crept over the horizon, bathing the hidden training grounds in golden light. For the first time, Nantori got a good look at where the chief had brought them. The area was a secluded valley surrounded by towering trees, their branches weaving together like a natural fortress. A small river snaked through the open field, glinting under the sunlight. The serenity of the place was a stark contrast to the heavy knot of anxiety in her chest.

The chief, in his human form, stood in the center of the clearing, arms crossed and his expression unreadable. His piercing blue eyes swept over Nantori, Jake, and Jenny. Pogo lounged lazily on a rock nearby, munching on bamboo but keeping one eye on her.

"All right," the chief began, his voice calm but firm, "before we start, I need to see what each of you is capable of. This will help me understand your strengths and, more importantly, your weaknesses."

Nantori felt her stomach twist. She gripped her bamboo staff tightly, her palms already slick with sweat. She glanced at Jake and Jenny, who seemed more composed—Jenny with her typical eager energy, and Jake with his steady, stoic demeanor. They weren't the ones the Panther was after, though. They didn't have the burden of being the Panda Guardian.

"You first, Nantori," the chief said, gesturing for her to step forward.

Her breath hitched, but she forced her legs to move. She took her place in the clearing, trying to project confidence she didn't feel.

"Show me how you handle an opponent," the chief instructed. "Jenny, you'll be her sparring partner."

Jenny's face lit up with excitement as she grabbed a wooden staff from the rack the chief had set up. "Ready when you are!" she said, her bright green eyes gleaming.

Nantori raised her staff, trying to steady her shaking hands.

"Begin," the chief commanded.

Jenny darted forward, quick and precise, swinging her staff toward Nantori's side. Nantori barely had time to block, and even then, the force of the blow rattled her arms. Jenny didn't let up, her strikes coming fast and relentless. Nantori backpedaled, trying to keep up, but her movements were clumsy and uncoordinated.

"Focus!" Pogo called from the sidelines, but his voice only added to her frustration.

Jenny feinted left, then struck right, her staff hitting Nantori's shoulder with a sharp crack. Nantori yelped, dropping her weapon as she stumbled back.

"Stop," the chief ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. Jenny immediately lowered her staff, her face falling into an apologetic frown.

"I didn't mean to hit you so hard," Jenny said, stepping closer to check on her friend.

"I'm fine," Nantori muttered, rubbing her shoulder and avoiding eye contact.

"No, you're not," the chief said bluntly. His gaze was sharp, cutting through her pride. "You're sloppy, unfocused, and unprepared. You have raw power, Nantori, but you have no idea how to use it."

His words stung more than Jenny's staff had.

"I just need more practice," Nantori said defensively, but even as she said it, doubt crept into her voice.

"You need more than that," the chief replied. "Power alone won't save you. The Panther and his forces won't go easy on you because you're still learning. You need discipline, control, and strategy. Right now, you have none of those."

Nantori clenched her fists, her frustration boiling over. "I didn't ask for this!" she snapped. "I didn't ask to be the Panda Guardian, to have the Panther after me, to—"

"To have responsibility?" the chief interrupted, his voice cutting through hers like a blade. "No one asks for it, Nantori. Responsibility chooses you. And if you can't handle it, people will get hurt. People you care about."

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She thought of her family, her friends, the wolves attacking her home. She thought of how helpless she'd felt, how useless she'd been.

"I... I'll try harder," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The chief softened slightly, but his gaze remained firm. "Trying isn't enough. You need to commit. Training isn't just about getting stronger; it's about understanding your limits, recognizing your weaknesses, and pushing past them. If you can't do that, you'll never be ready."

The rest of the morning was grueling. The chief put her through a series of exercises meant to test her agility, strength, and endurance. She failed nearly all of them. She couldn't dodge fast enough, couldn't lift the heavier weights, couldn't keep up with the relentless pace the chief set.

Jake and Jenny fared better, though even they struggled under the chief's strict guidance. Jenny's natural speed and agility made her a quick learner, while Jake's calm, analytical approach helped him adapt to the challenges. Nantori, on the other hand, felt like she was floundering, constantly two steps behind.

Pogo offered advice here and there, but even he seemed to grow frustrated with her lack of progress.

"Come on, Nantori," he said after her tenth failed attempt at a simple blocking drill. "You're supposed to be the Panda Guardian, not the Panda Liability."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Then came the power exercise.

"All right," the chief said, his voice steady but commanding. "Nantori, this time, I want you to focus on drawing out the Panda's energy. Not just a spark—control it, channel it into something tangible. The Panther will use everything at his disposal to tear through your defenses, and raw strength won't be enough. You need to learn how to wield it."

Nantori nodded, her heart pounding. She stepped into the center of the clearing, gripping her staff tightly. Pogo perched on a nearby rock, watching intently. Jake and Jenny stood off to the side, their expressions a mix of encouragement and apprehension.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she reached inward for the bond she shared with the Panda spirit. At first, there was nothing. Then, like a spark-catching flame, she felt it—a rush of energy surging through her veins, warm and powerful.

Her staff began to glow faintly, an iridescent green light spreading from her hands. The ground beneath her feet trembled slightly as the energy intensified. For a moment, she felt exhilarated, invincible.

But then the power began to waver.

The light around her staff flickered erratically, growing brighter one moment and dimming the next. The energy inside her felt wild, and chaotic, like a storm she couldn't contain. Her grip tightened on the staff as she struggled to hold it steady.

"Nantori, focus!" the chief barked. "You're letting it slip!"

"I—I can't!" she gasped, her voice strained. She felt the energy spiraling out of control, threatening to consume her. Panic set in, and instead of pushing through it, she suppressed it, shoving the power back down with all her might.

The light vanished, and the tremors stopped.

Nantori collapsed to her knees, breathing heavily. Her staff clattered to the ground beside her.

"What happened?" Jenny asked, stepping forward. "You were doing so well!"

"She panicked," the chief said coldly. His gaze was sharp as he looked at Nantori. "You had the power. You could feel it. But instead of mastering it, you let your fear take over."

"I didn't know what to do!" Nantori snapped, her voice rising. "It felt like it was going to tear me apart!"

"And that's exactly why you need to train," the chief replied, his tone unrelenting. "The Panther isn't going to wait for you to feel comfortable with your abilities. If you can't control your power, you might as well hand yourself over to him now."

Nantori felt tears sting her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was angry—at the chief, at herself, at the overwhelming burden she hadn't asked for.

After a brief pause, the chief stepped forward and crossed his arms, staring down at Nantori. "You're not just failing because you're inexperienced," he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "You're failing because you're afraid of your power."

She looked up at him, startled. "What are you talking about?"

"You're holding back," the chief said firmly. "You're afraid of what might happen if you let the Panda's energy take over. So instead of committing to it, you suppress it. That hesitation is your greatest weakness."

Nantori opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. He was right. Deep down, she was terrified—of the power she didn't understand, of the responsibility she wasn't ready for, of the possibility that she might lose herself to it.

By the time training ended for the day, Nantori was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. She sat by the river, staring at her reflection in the water.

"I'm weak," she whispered to herself. "Even with all this power, I'm still weak."

Pogo hopped onto the rock beside her, his usual playful demeanor replaced by uncharacteristic seriousness.

"You're not weak," he said softly. "You're just not ready yet. And that's okay. Everyone starts somewhere. But if you want to get stronger, you have to stop doubting yourself. Power doesn't mean anything if you don't believe in it."

She didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the water. She didn't know if she could believe in herself. Not yet.

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, she made a silent promise to herself. She might be weak now, but she wouldn't stay that way.

The road ahead would be hard, but she would walk it. Not just for herself, but for everyone who was counting on her.